


The Training of Rodimus Prime

by raisedbymoogles



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Multi, S/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedbymoogles/pseuds/raisedbymoogles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyclonus attempts to mold Rodimus into a proper berth toy for Galvatron, but even he may be in over his head this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Training of Rodimus Prime

"You are here to learn to please our Lord."

Cyclonus walked a slow circuit around his victim, watching how he quivered with every footfall, how the straps rubbed over bright plating.

"You will learn to give pleasure. You will learn to obey. You will learn discipline."

He paused, allowing a smile to cross his face, though his captive was blinder-masked and couldn't see it.

"In fact, I daresay you will crave it."

He continued walking, drinking in the kneeling mech's shiver. "From this point on, forget your faction. Forget your duties. You exist solely at the pleasure, and for the satisfaction, of Galvatron." He paused again, right in front of his victim, watching him intently.

"Do you want that?"

Jerkily, Rodimus nodded.

*

 _"The subject shows a willingness to please, but he has no training and no discipline. He is selfish, seeking his own pleasure, and his bravado and quips are wearying. Fortunately, he is a sensual creature, easy to discipline and - more rarely - reward."_

The shockstick cracked against Rodimus's thigh and he leaped forward, stopped short when the chain snapped taut between his throat and the floor. Undeterred, he turned on his knees, facing Cyclonus with his optics shining defiance as the spacejet took a step forward. His second step came down on the chain and pulled Rodimus's head down to the floor.

"I told you to hold still," Cyclonus told him.

"I was!" Rodimus's protest was muffled. "But that was too high!"

"Too  _high?_ " Cyclonus laughed. "Oh, Rodimus. This is only a mid-level charge." Actually, he had the shockstick's charge turned up as high as it would go, but it wouldn't do Rodimus any good to know that. "You'll simply have to toughen up. Will you complain when Galvatron turns the full force of his power on you?"

Rodimus shivered. "I... n-no..."

"Will you be immolated? Destroyed by his fury?"

"No, never!"

Cyclonus smirked, and lowered the shockstick down by Rodimus's audial. "Then ask for another strike."

Rodimus turned his head, watching the energy crackle around the shockstick's tip with pale optics. "Hit me again," he murmured.

It wasn't quite the proper way to ask, but instruction on that could wait. For now, Cyclonus obliged.

*

 _"The subject's education continues - as does mine. I have discovered in him an affinity for pain, for obedience, and for self-abasement. He has not lost his spirit, but - I hope my Lord will forgive me - I have found that I value it."_

This time Rodimus was bound, his body stretched backwards over an old generator - the kind that hummed and rattled as it worked. The vibrations fed directly into his aft and back and spoiler, making him squirm helplessly against his cuffs. Cyclonus admired the view for perhaps a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

"You remember your instructions," he stated mildly.

Rodimus's optics flickered with the effort of remembering. "Yes..."

"What were they?"

"D-don't overload. Speak only t-to answer you."

"Good." Cyclonus stroked Rodimus's cheek briefly, allowed his victim to kiss his fingers. "What is your purpose here, Rodimus?"

"To serve... to please... Galvatron..." Rodimus murmured against Cyclonus's fingers. "And you..."

Cyclonus slapped him lightly. "Not me."

"Y-yes, you!" Rodimus jerked against his bonds a little, fighting them mindlessly. "I like you too!"

Cyclonus stepped back sharply. "That is not relevant, Rodimus!"

"Like you too..." But Rodimus was subsiding, the vibrations of the generator taking over his awareness; Cyclonus pulled himself ruthlessly back under control.  _Clearly we still have much work to do._

"Cyclonus!" Rodimus cried, arching, "I'm-!" Cyclonus pulled a crop from subspace and slapped it down hard across Rodimus's chest, interrupting the overload before it could get started.

"Better?" he asked.

Rodimus blew air through his vents. "Yes," he answered shakily, "thanks."

"You're welcome. Though you know you are to be punished for speaking out of turn."

Rodimus grinned crookedly, warm fondness shining in his optics. "In that case, hit me hard."

Though his flame-painted body flinched in anticipation, that warmth didn't abate as Cyclonus drew back his arm.

*

 _Overall, I am pleased with our progress. Rodimus has learned well, and even done more than I have asked of him. His desire, or the dark part of his spark that drives that desire, is gratifyingly strong. I believe, my Lord, that you will find nothing wanting in Rodimus Prime._

"Down, Rodimus," Cyclonus ordered silkily, and Rodimus knelt and bent to the floor, shivering in anticipation. His form was flawless, and Cyclonus rewarded him with gentle strokes over his aft. "You go to Galvatron tomorrow. You will behave just this way for him."

"Yes..." Rodimus squirmed, his aft rubbing against Cyclonus's hand. Amused, Cyclonus gave it a sharp smack and savored the resultant moan.

"And he will reward you," he continued, straightening. "Nothing I have done to you will be as pleasurable as the least touch from Lord Galvatron. He knows your vulnerable spots, your preferences, and he will exploit them. You will be  _consumed_  by pleasure, I promise you that." Rodimus moaned again, soft, pleading, and Cyclonus smirked as he drove the point home. "You will be  _his,_  Rodimus."

He smacked the uplifted aft again and Rodimus convulsed, all his sensors firing at once. Cyclonus drew back to give the mech room for a brief fit of helpless, enraptured writhing against the floor. Finally, Rodimus slumped, limp with satisfaction. Cyclonus fought to hide a smile as he stroked the mech's cheek with the tip of his pede. "Rodimus," he crooned, and Rodimus glanced up with a crooked smile.

"Did I give you permission to overload?"

*

Cyclonus stood, freshly shined and polished, with Rodimus kneeling patiently at his feet. He snapped to attention at the ring of a familiar footstep, his spark thrilling within him as his Lord entered the throne room. Galvatron had finally returned.

"Cyclonus," he greeted, optics sparkling with mad humor. "What is this? A present?"

"Yes, my lord." Cyclonus nudged Rodimus forward with a foot, and watched with pride and apprehension as his pet project crawled forward, slinking like bright silk over the floor, and bent down gracefully at Galvatron's feet.

"My lord," Rodimus purred, "I-"

The rest of his carefully-memorized speech was lost; Galvatron dragged him upright with a growl of impatience, gripped his aft and spoiler, and kissed him hard.

"Hey, wait!" Rodimus protested with a laugh as soon as the kiss broke. "I'm not-!"

"Shut up, Prime," Galvatron snarled affectionately, and tossed Rodimus over his throne in order to pounce on him. As Cyclonus watched, all of Rodimus's hard lessons fell away, leaving him laughing brightly and clawing at Galvatron's back as the warlord had his way with him.

Smiling in rueful satisfaction, Cyclonus settled in to watch.


End file.
